Beautiful People - Chapter 27: Chapter 27

Fatima Bhatia looked around as Vera stepped out of the crowd. One curved eyebrow arched in a question.
With a slight smile, Sharise touched her fingers to Vera's back and drew her close. "This is Vera."
Did that sound like Sharise had been talking about her before she arrived? Vera couldn't tell. When Sharise removed her hand from her back she felt a little sick, but she stuck out her own hand and said hello. Her voice came out calm and confident, which was a small relief.
Light gleamed on a dozen rings as Fatima Bhatia waved her hands. "I hate introductions. They make me itch."
A little befuddled, Vera took her hand back. "Okay, uh." Fighting the overpowering urge to gush about what an honor this was, she managed only the super-lame, "Enjoying the party?"
"Hm. The show has been amusing." Bhatia tilted her head, gold glittering at her ears. Up close, her beauty was a little less intimidating. One of her eyebrows had more curve than the other, and for some reason that made Vera feel slightly better. She gestured towards the bar, where Ellie had been trapped into conversation by her date. "You were talking to Elaheh. Have you known her long?"
"We only met once," Vera said, glancing at Sharise.
"I see. Beautiful but difficult, that one. Tell me, Vera, have you ever seen her on a runway?"
"Not in person, but I've watched coverage of all your shows, and she-"
"No, no, not Elaheh," Bhatia interrupted, saving Vera from devolving into total fangirl mode. She spread her hands towards Sharise, fingers wide. "You see it. The elegance. The strength. Magnificent. And yet she will not lend me the gift of her beauty. Never once in all these years has she agreed to walk in one of my shows. I keep asking, and every time. Refused."
"You flatter me," Sharise said.
"I am always serious about work."
Vera's brain felt like a screen stuck on loading. Bhatia had wanted Sharise to model for her? She thought about the thousands of times she had gushed about her idol to Sharise and suddenly felt very foolish.
Sharise's small, indulgent smile suggested they'd had this conversation many times before. "You know that modeling isn't for me."
"Yes, you chose acting, and then Carmen, as though you cannot do both." Bhatia nodded slowly. "The industry is not the same as you remember. It is becoming less narrow. Certainly, there are many who wish it would remain the same. But what is art without innovation? Without many voices sharing what they have to say?" She lifted her palms. "When you say this about modeling, I hear your mother's poison."
Sharise frowned down at the glass she held, one giant spherical ice cube and a twist of orange peel in a rippling copper liquid. Like the martini she'd been carrying earlier, the drink was just an accessory; no lipstick marks marred the rim. "Have you talked to her lately?"
"I see her sometimes."
A passing server offered an exquisitely arranged tray of tiny things more sculpture than food. Vera grabbed one and stuffed it into her mouth to prevent herself from saying something stupid. She felt uncomfortably like she was eavesdropping.
Finally, Sharise said, "Is she well?"
"She is lonely, but that is a problem of her own making."
Sharise nodded once.
"Shall I tell her you asked?"
"No. Thank you."
Still chewing, Vera put her hand on Sharise's shoulder and squeezed briefly.
Eyeing the movement, Bhatia fluttered her fingers. "Tell me, Vera. Who are you?"
Startled by the attention, Vera swallowed her mouthful of artful hors d'oeurve and tugged at the sleeve of her silk blouse. "I, uh. I'm a designer. Well, an aspiring designer. You're a huge inspiration to me," she blurted before she could help herself. "I'm working as a stylist right now, for Carmen Juarez and Andre Bernard-DeSantos but I have this idea–"
"Of course. You were responsible for the menstruation look? An interesting choice, turning fashion into clickbait."
That punched like she'd had a sewing machine dropped on her chest. Vera tried not to let it show on her face. "You have to be bold in this business."
"Boldness without taste is simply hubris."
"That look was brilliant in the situation, even if I hated letting Carmen walk out like that," Sharise said, like she was offering a life vest to the floundering Vera.
With a tsk, Bhatia folded her fingers together in front of her stomach. "Her look today, that was also you? Lovely, but too many ideas at once. It lacked clarity of vision."
"I would have dressed her in something from you if I could have."
"Yes, of course, everyone wants to wear a Bhatia." Her tone was matter-of-fact, not boastful. "I wonder, who did you train with?"
Vera's face heated. "School wasn't for me. I'm mostly self-taught."
"Hm. Of course, school is not for all, but basics must come first. That is the foundation. Once you understand how the fabric will stretch, then you may cut on the bias. Perhaps you will consider an internship with an established designer."
She couldn't tell if that was a scolding or a job offer, but either way, it made her jaw clench. She had ideas. She didn't want an internship, she wanted a collaboration. A Kwan x Bhatia collection on the runways, not long days taking orders from someone's underlings.
Before she could say as much and thoroughly ruin whatever chance she might have had of impressing her idol, Bhatia waved her hands again. "Anyhow, I did not ask what you do. I asked who you are."
Vera blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Where did you come from? How did you end up here? And how did you meet Sharise?"
"Sharise is, uh." Vera hesitated, glancing at Sharise. She wanted to say the woman of my dreams but that seemed a little intense and she didn't want to embarrass Sharise. "My roommate."
Her roommate smiled, and the warmth of it went all the way to her beautiful brown eyes. "Vera is very determined to make me fall in love with her."
Vera's heart did a weird sort of hop.
"I see." Amber eyes crinkled. "You understand me then, Vera, in our pursuit of Ms. Carter. Persistence. Perhaps someday Sharise will grace us each with her gifts." She laughed like the gentle brush of wind through tall grass. "Sharise, you must come to my show in Paris. I insist."
Sharise drew in a breath, but Bhatia held up one finger to forestall her refusal.
"Come as my guest. You will like the new collection, I think. Bring your admirer." She threw a cheeky wink at Vera. "She might learn something. I will see you there."
And she swept away like a tornado that had laid waste to all of Vera's expectations.
Sharise sighed. "She doesn't sugarcoat. I should have warned you."
"No, it's fine, it's just... I don't know what to think. I've waited years for this, just for her to tell me that she thinks I'm not very good. It kind of sucks," Vera admitted.
"Oh, no, don't feel like that. That means she liked you," Sharise said, with a small laugh. "She wouldn't have bothered giving you advice if she didn't."
"You've known her a long time, haven't you?"
"I guess I'd say she's a family friend," Sharise agreed.
Trying to sort through how she felt, Vera looked down at her toes, pinched into a pair of stilettos that were feeling even less worth the pain than usual. Would it have made a difference if she'd had a chance to tell Bhatia about the idea she'd shared with Jay earlier? Somehow, she didn't think so. It wasn't like she even had designs to show to back up her plan.
Maybe Fatima Bhatia was right. Maybe she wasn't good enough to be here. She'd just gotten lucky. And luck didn't last.
"I know that was probably a little strange for you." Sharise reached over and squeezed her hand. "But you got an invite to Paris Fashion Week. She even offered you a job."
Vera tried to muster up a smile. Even though it hadn't gone how she expected, being introduced to Fatima Bhatia was a big deal. Sharise had done that for her. She hadn't even asked her to.
She could go to the Paris show. She could make a better impression next time. She would.
"Yeah, totally. You're right. Just weird to meet your heroes, I guess. I really appreciate the introduction."
The music cut out with an abrupt screech. Everyone looked around to see Carmen climbing up onto the bar beside the DJ booth, a microphone in hand. Wobbling a little, she waved her arms overhead and shouted, "How you all doing?"
"Oh no," Sharise muttered.
"Thanks so much for coming to my afterparty!" Carmen said, mouth too close to the mic. "Are you all having a good time?" Some half-hearted cheering. "Don't worry, I'll be quick. I know you've all got a lot of boring speeches to listen to this week." Laughter, a little louder than the cheering. Carmen looked around at the crowd. "We all know it takes a big team and a lot of work to get a film to Venice. So I'd like to propose some toasts to everyone who helped make today's premiere such a success. First, to the man himself, the legend, Merry Sanders." She lifted a flute of prosecco, slopping a little over her wrist.
"She's drunk. This isn't going to end well, is it?" Vera whispered to Sharise as Carmen listed off names like she was accepting an Academy Award, the crowd clapping politely and tossing back gallons of liquor because they didn't need an excuse.
"Let's cross our fingers. Trying to stop her would probably be worse."
Servers circulated as fast as they could, refilling empty glasses.
"To Vera Kwan, my wonderful stylist," Carmen said.
Vera's mouth dropped open.
"You've made me look and feel more fabulous than I ever have. I'm not even mad about the period blood anymore, I promise."
Carmen pointed in her direction, but since almost no one knew what she looked like and she was at least a head shorter than everyone around her, the crowd mostly just looked confused for a moment before shrugging and throwing back their drinks. Still, the sincerity in Carmen's voice went a long way to soothing the sting of Bhatia's criticism.
"And who could forget Sharise Carter, the best manager I've ever had. There's no way I would have gotten here without you. Thank you, Sharise. You don't know how much it means to me to have you by my side."
This time every single eye in the place landed on them. Acutely aware that they were still holding hands, Vera tried to let go, but Sharise held on. She smiled and raised her glass like she hadn't just been sighing at the spectacle.
"She's absolutely wasted," she said under her breath to Vera.
"I mean, yeah. But it's still touching."
"She does know how to get to me."
"And finally, to my best friend in the whole world." Carmen held her hand out. After a slight commotion in front of the bar, Marina let herself be pulled up in a clatter of scattering glassware. Laughing, she clung onto Carmen for support. "Partners in period charity," Carmen said fondly. "I got the better memes, though. Sorry."
To Vera, that almost sounded like Carmen was apologizing for her part in their fallout, but Marina burst into giggles and the crowd laughed along.
"Nothing can ever come between us. I love you, friend." Carmen planted a sloppy kiss on Marina's rapidly pinking cheek.
"You know," Vera said slowly, like she was just realizing it, "I think Marina might have a bit of a crush on Carmen?"
Sharise laughed, light as silk georgette in a summer breeze. "I think you're not wrong." The tension had finally softened out of her shoulders.
Her arm still around Marina, Carmen turned back to the crowd and shouted, "Let's have a party!"
There was more laughter and loud applause, everyone relieved that she was done. The DJ put his headphones back on and restarted the music, louder than before.
"Well, now that Carmen has thoroughly embarrassed us both," Vera said, looking at Sharise with renewed resolve. If Carmen could drunkenly declare her affection for her former frenemy and now reunited best friend in front a whole-ass crowd, then a slightly-less-drunk Vera could surely get her act together. "I can't believe you told my idol I'm determined to make you fall in love with me."
"Did that embarrass you?"
"Only because I'm clearly not trying hard enough if it hasn't worked yet."
Sharise's eyes sparkled. "I suppose you could try a little harder. If it's that important to you."
"There's nothing more important." She lifted Sharise's hand and let her lips brush against warm knuckles. This night may have been a mess so far, but Sharise was here, holding her hand, looking at her like that. She could at least do this one thing right. "Do you want to dance?"
"You know what?" Setting her untouched glass down onto the nearest table, Sharise put her other hand into Vera's. "Yes. I would love to dance."